Ok, I’ll admit it. I did it. After years of study, I neglected to draw upon my self-financed college education. Years of papers, projects, and late-night cramming for classes whose names I will never remember. That final Spring Break spent in the library, working on a major paper, while seemingly everyone else went South, spending time in the sand. I worked hard, and, among other things, learned how to proof different genres of writing.
Years later, all that hard work paid off with my first book, Asperger’s in Pink, hitting the shelves shortly.
Writing calls to me. Poking and prodding, doing anything possible to gain my attention. A few months ago, I decided to plunge into the Blogosphere where I could write freely, creatively, hoping for a minutiae of feedback along the way.
And then I wrote a piece I thought was mildly funny.
And left it there, for all the world to read.
A little while ago, I pulled this Blog up, and there it was, laughing in my face.
The typo.
It’s rather obvious, and glares at me. I should have known better. I should have caught it. Alas, I shall slink away, realizing that this writer does, indeed, need a mechanic.
Not to mention, I’ve gained a greater appreciation for my editor.
(Feel free to find it, and note it in the Comments!)
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